Just doing it!

I think about this blog at least once a week. Often several times in a day.
I really want to keep writing, updating, etc.
For some reason, uploading pictures is really complicated for me, and I have to get Nate's help each time, or I have to rediscover how to do it myself, which means that with both of us usually focused on other things, it doesn't happen.
And then I feel like I can't just put up another post of my thoughts, my musings, and basically just words because I haven't put up any pictures in who knows how long, even though I've been taking them and we have a whole file on the computer just for that.
So I brush the thought aside and keep on with my life, and the moment passes, and those thoughts fly onward, never to be exactly recovered (for good or for ill.)
But right now I decided to just write, and post, what I've been thinking.  My "readership" is probably next to nothing, thanks to the months of blog-neglect, but that's ok.  If someone reads these posts and enjoys them or thinks about them or gets anything good or interesting out of them, that's great.  If I'm pretty much just writing to myself, I'm fine with that too. :)  And if reading my blog irritates, offends, or gets under anyone's skin - they are welcome to move on.  No pressure to stick around!

I've been reading some really interesting books.  One is called "Nickel and Dimed," written by a journalist who did a life experiment of moving to several random places and trying to make all her ends meet as a minimum wage, entry level worker.  She tried it in Key West, some beach town in Maine, and the Twin Cities area in Minnesota, working as a waitress, in hotel housekeeping, with a maid service, as a "dietary aide" in an Alzheimer's ward of a nursing home, and at Walmart.  The first four jobs, she worked two at a time. Basically, it didn't work out.  After giving each situation a try for several weeks, she ended up concluding that it was almost impossible to make ends meet for the basics of housing, food, and transportation, not to mention even thinking about providing for an emergency, even working two minimum wage jobs at once.  And that was beside the way she felt looked down on, manipulated, abused, and totally dead-ended.  She narrates her experiences, bringing to life the people that surround her, people that are not going to go back to a different life with the ease that a little (or a lot!) more money and education might afford them, people for whom these jobs are real life.  I found myself strongly reminded of working in a daycare in Florida...
I must admit, this book left me a little depressed.  But it did get me thinking about the ways that I am privileged!  The privilege it gave me to have parents who emphasized the importance of education, and who provided for me and looked after me so that I could do things like finish high-school and go into college, and then get scholarships to go away and finish college.  The privilege and blessing it is to have a strong support network literally anywhere I go, whether it be family I can call on, or the local ward.  It is so easy to take for granted, even if we never use it, the help that is available just from calling our bishop, our Relief Society President, our Elders Quorum president, or even just visiting or home teachers.  And then there is the privilege of being able to stay home with my children and to be a full-time homemaker for my family.  I'm SO thankful that Nate can provide for us so that I can do this, and so thankful that he agrees with me that this is the best and most important thing I can do for our family.  And I'm privileged and blessed to be able to pass that privilege and blessing on to my children, as I love and teach and care for and set an example for them, one on one, here in our home.
Its an interesting read.  Its definitely not one of those "don't miss it" books, but if you have time and you find it, it's worth it.  Just remember, even if you don't read it, be thankful for the privileges that are yours.

Looking Up, Not Down

Oh, My, Goodness.  It is so easy to look down.  It is so easy to feel the weight of my “burdens” and sag beneath the load that is mine.  It does me much good to get a little perspective now and then – that's why I love to read. 

            In the hormonal maelstrom of the early postpartum weeks, missing my newly-returned-to-Alaska husband, trying to balance the needs and demands of my now two children, and struggling with guilt and resentment at my somewhat incapacitated state of recovery and the service that required others to give, I found myself definitely looking down. 

            And then I had a few moments when both girls were asleep, and I was able to get online.  I checked emails and facebook, of course, and did a few more things before heading over for the first time in a few months to one of my favorite blogs.  I’ve been randomly following The Blessing of Verity for over a year now, and the chronicles that Susanna Musser has kept of her family and her own heart never fail to uplift me.  But not in a high-flown, fancy, head in the clouds way.  Oh, no.  This is very much a down to earth, practical application, day to day life sort of blog.

            Anyway, here is this mother of eleven, simultaneously expecting an twelfth baby and thirteenth child (older, with extreme special needs) by adoption, homeschooling and raising her children to love and serve one another, already dealing with the special needs of her youngest daughter, born with Down syndrome, and another daughter, adopted not that long ago, who also has Down syndrome as well as special needs resulting from her life pre-adoption.  Whew.  It wears me out just to type all that!  Yet she exudes a spirit of faith, love, determination, and worship.  I know that what is communicated through a blog is just a snippet of life, a little window through a wall, but when those snippets add up to a consistent whole, when each little window shows a slightly different, but very congruent, piece of a picture, I take it as a good sign that it's a true picture.  Besides, it’s just too much work to be fictional, or dishonest, on your blog when you have so much else to do! J

            She’s an inspiration to me.  She reminds me of where my focus ought to be.  She helps me feel new gratitude for my blessings, my challenges, and my Savior.  She shows me how to live with grace, and in reading her words, I find that much needed perspective on my own life.  She helps me to remember, as President Monson is quoted to have said,  to “look up!  It is better to look up than to look down!”

Good Books and Good Toys and a little Rant on the side

 A while ago, I was asked what I think makes a good book.  I have been thinking about it, and I have to say, being a voracious reader of many genre, it is hard to come up with a definitive rubric for qualifying a good book.  (Again, as I have said before, this is not to judge anyone else's choices, only to write about mine.)  I find that a good book, first of all, makes me think.  It may be a little piece of paperback juvenile fiction or a tome of hardcore non-fiction research.  It may be a biography or a self-help book.  Whatever it is, it touches some part of my mind and finds connection in my life, in my dreams, in my consideration of the world and its happenings.  A good book is beautiful.  I'm sorry to say so, but I absolutely detest what seem to be deliberately ugly or crudely done books, particularly children's books.  There is a place in life for ugliness, it is a part of life, but to dwell on it, to roll in it and smear it around, as it were, is something I can't stand.  I find that even the darkest, ugliest parts of life can be treated bravely, honestly, clearly, and come out worth reading about.  A good book is (usually) well written.  Call me a nerd, or whatever you want, but poor grammar, repeated typos, flat characters, and cliched scenes totally turn me off.  It doesn't have to be grandiose - just well-edited and well-written.  That's all I have for now.  I'm an truly an omnivore when it comes to books, but I do end up gravitating more towards non-fiction, autobiography, historical fiction, and the classics.  You never know what you'll find on the shelves, though, so I like to at least walk up and down the aisles, reading titles and occasionally browsing a page or two from random openings.  Choosing books to read is kind of like dating, for me - I almost always knew from the very first date whether there was any potential there.  If not, for the most part, I wasn't too interested in going on more dates, or reading further.  If so... well, let's check it out and see where it all goes!
  And being that its almost Christmas, I've been thinking along similar lines as it pertains to toys.  There are so many toys out there!  I'm afraid I see many of them as mostly trash - cheap plastic, garish noisemakers, and just over all stuff to clutter the floor and hide behind the couch and under the bed.  Before you think I'm a total humbug, I fondly remember the many and varied toys I played with as a child (mostly an enormous collection of very random stuffed animals!) and how every one of them had a name, a back story, and a reason why we absolutely couldn't get rid of it.  I now look back with admiration at my parents forbearance with all our toys.  However, when it comes to "good" toys, I have to say, I do have my opinions.  Mostly I find more and more attractive the simpler, more versatile toys.  Kids make their own fun, use their imaginations, and become very creative with basic, simple things. Stuffed animals - yes.  They become whatever character a child imbues them with, and are mostly harmless and easy to stuff into a box or sack.  Dolls - it depends.  We had some Barbies, and we LOVED the Barbies at Grandma's house, but they always end up with their clothes off and their hair standing up on end.  I loved soft bodied baby dolls though. :)
  So I'm thinking that toys I now like include things like Lincoln Logs, Tinker Toys, (limited) Legos or Duplos, balls, blocks, beanbags, and yes, some dolls and stuffed animals.  I feel considerably less excited about anything that makes noise, flashes lights, or requires batteries.  I do realize the irony of the fact that while I have my opinions, Eden likes almost anything and finds creative ways to play with everything from the most complicated, technologically advanced toy to a cardboard box.

-*-*-

And here is the Rant....

 I have never watched the new Pixar film, "Brave," but I have heard a few things about it, mostly to the tune of how wonderful it is to have a feature animated kids film with a strong female lead character that doesn't focus on the stereotypical "girly" things.  However, after hearing one of my little girls quote it and discussing with her what she learned from it, I can honestly say I have no desire to watch it or to ever let my daughter do so.
   The little girls were playing together in the living room, H. being Merida and D. being Sleeping Beauty, while I made cornbread around the corner in the kitchen.  I could hear their childish voices, "And then pretend.... And I was wearing.... and then this happened..."  It was cute and funny to overhear, and very much reminded me of pretending with my sisters as a little girl, until suddenly H. quite forcefully said something that struck me right between the eyes.  Quoting the movie, "Brave", she said, "But Mother, I don't want to be like you!!" or maybe it was "I'm not going to be like you!"  Whatever the exact wording was, my immediate feeling was shock.  What a sad and really damaging sentiment for a little girl to catch hold of and internalize!  Perhaps I grew up in an idyllic bubble, but I always wanted to be like my mother, and my grandmother, and the women in my family.  Not exactly like them, of course, but I looked up to them, and saw them as strong, capable, and living out their own adventures, while simultaneously feminine, real, and giving service and love.  I was glad to be a woman, and was excited not only to live my dreams and adventures, but also to fill the roles I saw them fill - wife, mother, aunt, and grandmother chief among them.
    I got the cornbread in the oven, and came out of the kitchen to sit on the living room floor near the girls.  They were having a little spat about which character (Merida or Sleeping Beauty) was better, and asked my opinion.  I managed to placate them with a diplomatic response and then asked H. why Merida didn't want to be like her mother.  She replied that her mother just wanted her to get married and was trying to make her get married, and she didn't want to.  I asked H, "But do you want to get married someday?"  Without delay, and with great emphasis, she told me that she did not want to ever get married, EVER.  Um....what do you say to that?  I just said something like, "Oh, that's too bad.  I think being married is great," and let it go.
  Ok, so she's only four.  And thoughts about marriage, etc. do change over time.  But, again, I just thought it was so sad that she has that idea planted in her head - marriage is horrible, it curbs all your dreams, you become someone you didn't want to be, and its something to be avoided at all costs.  I don't think that its healthy to be obsessed with getting married at that age either, but for heaven's sake! its no wonder we have a generational problem with commitment with these kinds of subliminal (and even overt) messages being relayed into children's heads from the time they are tiny!
  So there's my rant.  Its not that I think that older movies are good just because they are older.  I have noticed, however, a common theme.  In older movies, the good is beautiful, bad is ugly. (Some people see it the other way around, and take offense at the perceived message that beautiful is good and ugly is bad.  I never saw it that way, probably due to my mother's voice in my head, saying "Pretty is as pretty does.")  Goodness, kindness, gentleness, etc. is rewarded by life itself, after passing through trials.  Your attitude is as important as your actions.  In more recent films, I see a distinct swing towards mixing up the moral message.  Beauty may be good or bad, scoundrels may be the hero, actually, and what you get from life, you have to wrest away by your own smarts and chutzpah because life is just going to hand you a raw deal if you don't make things happen your way.  There is some truth in these things.  I just wonder what it does to children's innocence and the development of a moral compass to confront some of these messages at such early ages.

(And here is my disclaimer - I only find snatches of time to write on Sunday afternoons or after Eden's in bed, so I have to type fast.  My ability to make sense and be coherent may thus suffer...)

A REALLY Good Book

I just have to write this review really quickly before I return the book to the library and forget the important details, like title and author and such. :)

"The Brain that Changes Itself"

by Norman Doidge

VERY GOOD BOOK!!

I happen to love good fiction, but when its done right, non-fiction is even more satisfying for me.  I suppose its because I feel like I'm learning something.  And also because I find it hard to find really good fiction. But I digress...

This book is about the plasticity of the brain, investigating it from infancy (and briefly, even prenatally) to old age, and covering topics such as psychoanalysis or "talking therapy," phantom limbs, the effect of mental practice, love and attraction, and disability, whether from birth or other trauma such as a stroke or illness.  I found it absolutely fascinating, and every time I read a section I had to tell Nate all about it to share the information but also because I wanted to process and really remember it, and talking it through/explaining it is one of the best ways I do that.  Of course, I couldn't gobble it up in one go - Eden does a great job of keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground - but that turned out to be a good thing because then I was able to digest it more thoroughly, a chapter or so at a time.  

The writing is engaging and well-done, easy to understand and even apply to daily life despite its often deep roots in philosophy, science, and many years of research across interdisciplinary fields.  

I loved it!  It especially made me think of you two, Bridget and Rosemary, but I think anyone could read it and find both enjoyment and edification!

And now I have to run take care of my kidlet!

Women of Character

First, thank you to all of you who have left comments on various posts!  I love to know that someone is reading my thoughts, and your words uplift and encourage me.  I may not reply to your comments specifically, but please know that I read and treasure them.  They mean so much to me!

A few weeks ago, I received an unexpected package in the mail.  I always like to get mail, even those random catalogs that come from LL Bean and the like, :) and this proved to be much better than a random catalog!  A dear friend who has known me nearly all my life very thoughtfully sent me some words of encouragement and a book entitled "Women of Character."  Its full of the stories of LDS women, from many backgrounds and through many choices and circumstances, from the early pioneers to today's women.  The essays are just the right length for a busy, tired mama (or anyone else!) to snatch up and read during a baby's nap, a bathroom break, or a brief moment of quiet on the couch, and then mentally chew on throughout the rest of the day's duties.  Its been a blessing and an inspiration!

The other night, after a particularly difficult day, I lay in bed and this book came to mind.  I was having a conversation with myself, arguing back and forth between self-sacrifice and insistent discontent, between bad attitude and stuffing emotions, between wanting to be a good wife and wanting to have things my way...  The mental club kept whacking me upside the head, "This shouldn't be so hard for you... Just suck it up and be happy!...Come on, 'daughter of the pioneers,' what happened to cheerfully living with your decision?..."  I don't know why those things even come to my mind to say to myself; I'd never say them to someone else who was struggling!

So this book came to mind, at first as more ammunition to launch at myself - they did it, why can't I? They even had it worse, what am I complaining about?  Look at all my blessings, why can't I just be content?  It was not pretty.  But then I started to see things differently.  Yes, they were great women.  Yes, they overcame difficulties and persevered and demonstrated faith and love and sacrifice.  BUT! I was reading their stories after the struggle, on the other side of the difficulty, when the trials were passed.  Of course what stands out is the fact that they made it, they did it, they got through with grace and went on!  That's why we read such stories for inspiration!  It suddenly struck me that these women surely had their moments of inner turmoil, that being mortal, they had their moments of weakness, that there were undoubtedly moments when they wished things were, or could be, different, and probably even times when they (*gasp*) had to vent or complain or even burst into tears!  Yet those moments didn't diminish the greatness of their lives, the truth of their triumphs.  I doubt any one of them thought of herself as a heroine or someone who was going to be set apart in history as an exemplar of certain virtues, but here I am, reading their stories for encouragement and inspiration in my struggle.

I don't think of myself as a great heroine or some exemplar to stand on a pedestal.  I know too well my inner (and sometimes outer!) struggles and faults to presume that role even if I wanted to.  But it was a blessing to realize that having these struggles does not mean I am bad, or unable, or weak, or even particularly selfish.  Hard things are hard, regardless of why or whether they "should" or "shouldn't" be.  The point is to get through them the best we can, with forgiveness, faith, and a healthy measure of God's grace to see us through.

Yes, I've been really struggling.  Yes, there are days when my attitude needs pretty constant adjustment.  Yes, there are times when things are not so good.  But I make it through, day by day, and when I can humble myself enough to accept it, the light of heaven gently shines through in small and unexpected ways to ease my burden and help me along.

The Scarlet Pimpernel

Yesterday I took Eden and H. to the library to check out some books.  Eden was mostly interested in pulling all the books she could reach off of the shelf and then chewing on them, so she was mostly confined to my hip.  H. found a little stuffed raccoon on one of the children's shelves, and then spent the next twenty minutes in the armchair with it, deeply engrossed in the book "Pecos Bill."  I loved watching her face as she studied the Steven Kellogg illustrations!  While she was occupied, I spent a few minutes looking for some things for myself, and ended up selecting a movie my sisters highly recommended, "The Scarlet Pimpernel."
After getting Eden to bed later that night, Nate and I settled down on the couch to try it out.  I must admit, I wasn't sure we were going to make it through the whole movie for the first few minutes!  But as we went along, it drew us in and by the end I could only say that it was one of the best movies I have watched in quite a while. Its about an English secret agent in France during the French Revolution.  The secret agent plots are thrilling and engaging in themselves, but the twist is that, in order to keep his identity a secret and maintain his ability to access inner French society workings, Sir Percy Blakenell, aka. the Scarlet Pimpernel, acts the foppish fool.  (And he REALLY does.  His affectations almost made us turn off the movie before we understood what they were all about.)  No one can even entertain a suspicion of his involvement because he is all about fashion, society, and the silliest of empty-headed nonsense.  Only his cadre of close friends, who work with him in the undercover work, know the truth.  Even his wife, though she hopes and suspects there is more to him than appears, only sees the fashionable and handsome fool til almost the end.  It involves secrets and counter-secrets, intrigue and double-crossing, humor and pathos, and ultimately comes to a satisfying ending.  I HIGHLY recommend it!
It did spark some interesting thoughts, though.  I think that most people don't mind doing hard and exciting things, heroic things.  Not only don't mind, many of us even crave that opportunity to do important things and make a difference in some way.  And even if we don't want it, when we're called upon to do so most of us step up to the plate and do our part.  Of course, the natural desire in that is to be known for our contributions, to have our sacrifices recognized and lauded.  Sometimes we're also satisfied with just remaining behind the scenes, outwardly living sedate and normal lives while quietly accomplishing what must be done.  But how many times are we willing to be taken for the fool in order to do the Lord's work?  How many times are we willing to be seen as unrealistic, zealous, silly, and foolish in order to save others - however they need to be saved?  How often do we allow concern about the judgement that others may pass upon us and our actions to influence our decisions?  I'm not saying we should all don the mask of silly superficiality to cover our good works.  Just remembering...

"The foolishness of God is wiser than men... the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God."

1 Cor. 1:25, 3:19